Shakespeare, William · published 1623 · first performed or written 1599 [1598-1599] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men unassigned nearest T41 Household service: masters, doors and po · 468 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T41: master, house, door, iohn, old, mistress, basket, lord, gentleman, ick.
Fie on thee. I can tell what thou wouldst do. What, for a Counter, would I do, but good? Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: For thou thyself hast been a Libertine, As sensual as the brutish sting itself, And all th' embossed sores, and headed evils, That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. Why who cries out on pride, That can therein tax any private party: Doth it not flow as hugely as the Sea, Till that the weary very means do ebb. What woman in the City do I name, When that I say the City woman bears The cost of Princes on unworthy shoulders? Who can come in, and say that I mean her, When such a one as she, such is her neighbour? Or what is he of basest function, That says his bravery is not on my cost, Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits His folly to the mettle of my speech, There then, how then, what then, let me see wherein My tongue hath wronged him: if it do him right, Then he hath wronged himself: if he be free, why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies Vnclaimed of any man. But who come here? Forbear, and eat no more. Why I have eat none yet. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. Of what kind should this Cock come of? Art thou thus boldened man by thy distress? Or else a rude despiser of good manners, That in civility thou seem'st so empty? You touched my vein at first, the thorny point Of bare distress, hath ta'en from me the show Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred, And know some nurture: But forbear, I say, He dyes that touches any of this fruit, Till I, and my affairs are answered. And you will not be answered with reason, I must dye. What would you have? Your gentleness shall force, more than your force Move us to gentleness. I almost die for food, and let me have it. Sat down and feed, & welcome to our table Speak you so gently? Pardon me I pray you, I thought that all things had been savage here, And therefore put I on the countenance Of stern commandment. But what ere you are That in this desert inaccessible, Under the shade of melancholy boughs, Lose, and neglect the creeping hours of time: If ever you have looked on better days: If ever been where bells have knolled to Church: If ever sat at any good man's feast: If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear, And know what 'tis to pity, and be pitied: Let gentleness my strong enforcement be, In the which hope, I blush, and hide my Sword.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Fie on thee. I can tell what thou wouldſt do. What, for a Counter, would I do, but good? Moſt miſcheeuous foule ſin, in chiding ſin: For thou thy ſelfe haſt bene a Libertine, As ſenſuall as the brutiſh ſting it ſelfe, And all th' imboſſed ſores, and headed euils, That thou with licenſe of free foot haſt caught, Would'ſt thou diſgorge into the generall world. Why who cries out on pride, That can therein taxe any priuate party: Doth it not flow as hugely as the Sea, Till that the wearie verie meanes do ebbe. What woman in the Citie do I name, When that I ſay the City woman beares The coſt of Princes on vnworthy ſhoulders? Who can come in, and ſay that I meane her, When ſuch a one as ſhee, ſuch is her neighbor? Or what is he of baſeſt function, That ſayes his brauerie is not on my coſt, Thinking that I meane him, but therein ſuites His folly to the mettle of my ſpeech, There then, how then, what then, let me ſee wherein My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, Then he hath wrong'd himſelfe: if he be free, why then my taxing like a wild-gooſe flies Vnclaim'd of any▪ man But who come here? Forbeare, and eate no more. Why I haue eate none yet. Nor ſhalt not, till neceſſity be ſeru'd. Of what kinde ſhould this Cocke come of? Art thou thus bolden'd man by thy diſtres? Or elſe a rude deſpiſer of good manners, That in ciuility thou ſeem'ſt ſo emptie? You touch'd my veine at firſt, the thorny point Of bare diſtreſſe, hath tane from me the ſhew Of ſmooth ciuility: yet am I in-land bred, And know ſome nourture: But forbeare, I ſay, He dies that touches any of this fruite, Till I, and my affaires are anſwered. And you will not be anſwer'd with reaſon, I muſt dye. What would you haue? Your gentleneſſe ſhall force, more then your force Moue vs to gentleneſſe. I almoſt die for food, and let me haue it. Sit downe and feed, & welcom to our table Speake you ſo gently? Pardon me I pray you, I thought that all things had bin ſauage heere, And therefore put I on the countenance Of ſterne command'ment. But what ere you are That in this deſert inacceſſible, Vnder the ſhade of melancholly boughes, Looſe, and neglect the creeping houres of time: If euer you haue look'd on better dayes: If euer beene where bels haue knoll'd to Church: If euer ſate at any good mans feaſt: If euer from your eye-lids wip'd a teare, And know what 'tis to pittie, and be pittied: Let gentleneſſe my ſtrong enforcement be, In the which hope, I bluſh, and hide my Sword.